


Eat the Rich

by readythefanons



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, secret bird nerd lorenz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readythefanons/pseuds/readythefanons
Summary: “Lorenz. Lorenz. Lorenz. I will personally eat you out, like, six times a week if you break up with this dude,” Leonie said, lunging across the couch to place a hand on his arm and stare earnestly into his eyes. “He is theworst.”
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Eat the Rich

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the kinkeme! [Leonie eats Lorenz out](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1608.html?thread=2284616#cmt2284616). It actually came out less explicit than intended, so I apologize for that. Thank you for the excellent prompt/title. Onwards!
> 
> In this fic, Lorenz uses he/him pronouns and has a vagina. Leonie also has a vagina, and she uses she/her pronouns

“Dude. Dude, I’m begging you. Please break up with this guy.” It was a Friday night and Lorenz was at Leonie’s apartment. She was tispy. They both were. Normally, Lorenz would be at home, with his boyfriend, but Geoffrey’s work trip had been unexpectedly extended and so here Lorenz was.

“He’s not that bad,” Lorenz sighed.

“Brrt! Wrong, try again,” Leonie said, giving him an obnoxious thumbs-down. “Seriously, what is it. Is his dick that good?”

“ _Leonie_ ,” Lorenz groaned.

“Lorenz. Lorenz. Lorenz. I will personally eat you out, like, six times a week if you break up with this dude,” Leonie said, lunging across the couch to place a hand on his arm and stare earnestly into his eyes. “He is the worst.”

“He is not the worst, Leonie.”

SEVERAL MONTHS LATER

Geoffrey was the worst.

He was a jerk and, and a tool, and a cheater, and—

“Holy shitballs, Lor,” Leonie groaned. “Get in the car, you look like a wet cat.”

“Thank you for, for picking me, up—” Lorenz began meekly as he slid into her car.

“Dude. No. No thanking me for doing normal shit. Put on your seat belt,” Leonie said. Lorenz did as he was told before sinking into the passenger seat. Leonie blindly reached out to fiddle with the temp controls, changing it from blowing cool air to blasting warm, and that was—oh, that was nice. He was sure it was making the car stuffy, but Lorenz was truly soaked and the hot air was going a long way to soothe the shivers from his bones. She patted his knee absent mindedly before returning her hand to the steering wheel, and that was nice as well. Lorenz closed his eyes and turned his face towards the window, listened to the hiss of the rain, the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers, and the murmur of the radio. Okay.

They made it to Leonie’s apartment.

“Put your bag down and get in the shower,” Leonie said tiredly. “You have clothes in there?”

“I do, but—”

“They’re soaked, right. Okay. Go take a shower and I’ll figure something out,” Leonie said, shepherding him not unkindly in the general direction of the bathroom. 

“Thank you,” Lorenz said again. She made a scoffing noise and closed the door in his face.

He showered—the hot water was everything he wanted, good gracious—and wrapped himself in a towel. He peeked out of the bathroom door to find that Leonie had left a pile of clothes on the floor in the hall. They fit, barely. Lorenz was lucky that Leonie liked sleeping in oversized t-shirts, but he had no idea what she was doing with such oversized sweat pants. Lorenz’s own clothing was utterly soaked, so he hung them up in the shower and padded into the other room.

“I’m heating up a pizza,” Leonie announced. “Don’t worry, it’s veggie.”

“You didn’t have to,” Lorenz said, sitting at her small table. His stomach betrayed him, growling at the smell of the cooking food.

“And lazy girl’s nachos,” Leonie added as the microwave beeped. She retrieved a bowl of corn chips with half-melted cheese, slid it in front of Lorenz and thunked a jar of salsa next to it. “Bon appetite.” 

“Thank you,” Lorenz said. She sighed, dropped into the other chair. She also stole one of Lorenz’s nachos. 

“You get one more thank you, and that’s it,” she warned him. He made a face. She made a face right back. And she stole _another_ of Lorenz’s nachos, crunching on it defiantly.

He saved his last ‘thank you.’ It wanted to spill off his tongue at the first taste of the pizza, as she passed him a napkin, as she shepherded him to her pull-out couch. He wanted to say it when she produced her ancient laptop and queued up some old TV series from when they were in college, and again when she threw a blanket over his shoulders and let him slump against her. It wanted to slip off his tongue when she roused herself enough to root around until she produced a toothbrush, still in its package, for him, and again when she helped him unpack his sad, wet bag of sad, wet clothes and haphazardly hang them up in the shower. He saved it until they were on the pull-out couch again, drowsing side-by-side while the TV played. He whispered his thanks when she fell asleep, then carefully slipped off the couch to turn off the lights and generally check that everything was secure for the night. He slipped back into his place next to her, soaked in the warmth of her cozy apartment until sleep found him as well.

“Lorrrr,” Leonie mumbled. It was morning, and they were loosely tangled together. She pressed a sleepy kiss to the hollow of his throat and another to his collarbone. Lorenz felt himself blush. That was unexpectedly pleasant. 

“Morning, Leonie,” he said softly. She—stiffened. After a moment, she pulled back to blink at him.

“Lorenz?” she asked. 

“Ah, yes?”

“Oh. Right,” she said. He watched in fascination as a blush suffused her face. Had she—not been awake when she—just now—but she’d said his name? “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Lorenz repeated.

“Ah, so, got any plans for today?” she asked, still red-cheeked, still some inches away from him when she’d been so comfortably close a second ago.

“Well,” Lorenz said. “I did break up with my boyfriend, and I do recall certain, ah, incentives were promised if I did so.” He waited, apology and retraction on the tip of his tongue, until her face lit up.

“Did you—are you asking me to eat you out?” she asked, incredulous delight making her voice _embarrassingly_ loud. Lorenz nodded. “ _Lorenz!_ ” she practically yelled, “Yes! I am _on board._ Take your pants off.”

“Um,” Lorenz said, and Leonie was—well, she certainly wasn’t half-asleep any more. 

Geoffrey had done this for Lorenz before, but—Leonie was _so much better at it._ She was—she was really—enthusiastic. Good gracious.

Lorenz normally didn’t look at his partner when this was being done for him, preferring to cover his face or keep his eyes shut if that wasn’t an option. It wasn’t—there was a certain level of self-consciousness that was inescapable, and having another person face to face, as it were, with his—intimate anatomy had always made Lorenz feel terribly exposed. With Leonie—he couldn’t look at her either, but that was because the first time he caught her eyes as she was—servicing him, he’d been almost overcome with, with _feelings._

So Lorenz kept his eyes trained on her ceiling, dared to rest his hands on her head. She—oh, she was so, terribly good at this. She seemed to have an innate ability to tell exactly how Lorenz liked to be teased, precisely when he needed more. She even seemed to sense when it was too much, easing off without him having to ask, and that was—Lorenz was normally loud in bed, because Geoffrey liked that, but he—he couldn’t remember—it just felt too good. He whined, a little, and made choked noises when Leonie did something especially effective, but he was so overwhelmed he really, truly couldn’t spare a thought for what, how, how to please his partner—

Leonie hummed in satisfaction as she ate him out, and made odd little throaty noises too, and Lorenz wanted—he wanted to hear _every_ sound she made. Lorenz was rocking his hips against her face, and she made a happy little noise, and oh—

“I’m close—Leonie—can I?” he panted, and if she said no he might actually _cry_ —

“Yes, yes, _please_ , Lor,” she gasped, and her voice was rough and raspy, and she set her mouth on him again—

Lorenz’s breath was coming in uneven gasps, and noises were issuing from him without his intention, and—he felt so good—he was almost _sobbing—_ Leonie tangled their fingers together and squeezed his hand and did that thing with her tongue—

Lorenz discovered that there was such a thing as a, a _luxurious_ orgasm, one that, once begun seemed like it could go on for as long as he desired it. Every time he thought he was almost done, Leonie seemed to find another clever thing to do to him, and at length he whined and pushed weakly at her head—

She stopped, sitting back and looking wild-eyed and enticingly messy, and then she was on him, pressing their bodies together and kissing at the hollow of his throat, his collarbone, the column of his neck. Lorenz wrapped his arms around her, as best he could with his muscles so limp, and she nosed at the corner of his jaw and was mumbling his name, not to mention all manner of praise as though _he_ had done something wonderful. He mumbled her name back to her, cuddled her through the encroaching heaviness of sleep, and kissed the top of her head before succumbing. 

When he awoke, still feeling wonderfully heavy but somehow invigorated, the light slanting into the room was virtually unchanged. Not out for too long then. He was lying on his back, and Leonie was half next to, half on top of him, scrolling through her phone. She looked at him as he stirred, a happy openness to her expression.

“Look,” she said, and then her phone was in his face. Ah, a funny bird video. He watched it, smiling. 

“That’s the alula, the bastard wing,” he said to her, “It helps—helps direct air over the wing, for flight,” he finished through a yawn. He could probably draw a diagram if she was interested.

“I was just reading that,” Leonie said. “It’s like a thumb. _Nerd._ ” It was impressive how much—fondness could be fit into a single, hypothetically insulting syllable. 

“Mm hm,” he agreed. He tilted his head, tried to get a better look at her. She really did seem quite happy. “Thank you.” She blushed, looked—something.

“Don’t thank me,” she said. “Happy to do it again sometime.”

“Six times a week?” he tried to joke, and she—smiled. Her eyes were so bright.

“Eight, if you like,” she offered grandly, and he couldn’t help whatever expression was on his own face right now. “Twice on Tuesdays.” 

“And yourself?” he asked, and she ducked her head, peeked at him through her lashes.

“Only if you want,” she said, and he found he very much did want, and told her so. She smiled and, oh, kissed the back of his hand, and—he put a hand on her cheek, drew her close. Her eyelids were fluttering, her breath shivering against his skin, as he kissed her. She was wonderfully, terribly warm, and he found he didn’t want to let her go. So he didn’t, and luxuriated in the feel of her lips on his own and the way she cupped his face like he was something precious.

**Author's Note:**

> You gotta see [the bird video though](https://gallusrostromegalus.tumblr.com/post/630801942075047936/passumbapper-passumbapper-alphynix). God I love birds
> 
> Comments are a delight!


End file.
